MIA Status: Found
by IceraMyst
Summary: 1x2. After Heero and Duo get seperated, to what lengths will they go to find each other again? COMPLETED
1. Missing

**Chapter 1**: Duo Maxwell  
  
It's been a year now since Heero Yuy just decided to get up and go missing.  
  
I remember it so clearly, much more clearly than I want to. It's not just that it's painful, but I'm certainly at fault, even if I'm not sure why. It all ties back to that night with Heero, the enigma boy; the one no one knew, really, but me.

I would like to write a novel about Heero someday. The dialogue would consist of mostly '...'s and 'Hn's, but between the lines would be a story of courage and a soul doomed to destroy.

Yeah, I can be poetic if I want to. My own book would have more in it than you would think. If Heero wrote it, it would most likely go somewhat like, "Was too much of a stupid person to live. Had nice hair until his own Gundam fell on him." His ideas of my capabilities weren't exactly high. But, that almost sounds critical of him. You shouldn't criticize the dead...  
  
He had this habit of staying up late at night, just sitting on his bed, doing nothing. Probably he was looking out the window, but there are no stars visible with all the pollution around here, and the moon was never visible from our room. What he saw out there was a total mystery. In the beginning, I almost thought—hoped—that it was me he was looking at, watching in the slight light that was just cast by the smog-filled air. Night after night, I lost precious sleep with my head turned just so, eyes shut as smooth as they could be, praying that it was me he was looking at, and that he should be given something worthwhile to see.

It was nearly a month before I stopped and looked, really looked, at myself in the mirror over his bed. After that I simply turned my head away when he was awake. My sleeping times did not improve.  
  
But anyway, Heero—that's such a stupid name. Did you realize that we're all numbers in different Earth languages? We fit our Gundams, too. Pretty cool, huh? Well, okay, it's a bit cheesy. I mean, Duo—that's Spanish, right? I'm American! Trowa means three in... something... but 'Trowa' sound kind of like three anyway. Quatre is four, also in Spanish... no... French? French. Or maybe Portuguese. I can never remember. But definitely not Arabian. Wu Fei, well, who knows? Maybe his name really is in Chinese. Sounds a bit like it, right?  
  
Languages are really not my thing.  
  
But Heero! The name makes him sound like a sandwich (a really good sandwich, but a sandwich nonetheless) and whatever he is, it's not a sandwich. A bird, maybe. Like the one in that poem, the 'Nevermore' one. A crow, maybe? Ah, raven. He really is the kind of person that would hang around some poor guy's window and just say one word. Except his word would be "...", not something cool like "nevermore".  
  
Yeah, so I'm rambling again. I don't normally. I only do it when it's too painful to think. And Heero... is a painful subject.  
  
Back to that night. Heero was sitting on his bed again. He had been unusually quiet that day (as in, not even saying 'hn' when I spoke to him, because Heero is never a chatterbox anyway) but sometimes he was just like that, naturally. There was something about him right then, though; something that seemed sad. Heero wasn't usually sad—just angry, or cold, or violent. As I said, I know him better than most and I can tell you, he was sad.  
  
So, he was looking out the window like usual. And then, he stood up. I could sense him moving around the room as if looking for something. This was definitely becoming not his usual, and I almost opened my eyes, but something told me not to. I've found through experience that trusting my instincts is a good thing, so I just waited, silent.  
  
At last he came over to me, and... it was strange. He knelt down and pressed his cheek against mine...  
  
It was wet.  
  
I couldn't understand it. Maybe he had gotten a cut earlier and it was bleeding? That was about as smart as my mind was working. I couldn't think at all; not with him that close, not with his breath in my ear. He held there, as if he wanted me to wake him up, talk him out of whatever was going on, but my instincts said, "Stay silent."  
  
I will never listen to my instincts again.  
  
After a while he stood, then climbed up onto my bed, feet braced on the pillow. He was doing something with the window, maybe getting a better view. Like I said, I wasn't thinking at all, but I couldn't resist: I let my head fall to the side, let my lips brush his cold, cold skin. He paused—had he felt that?—then as the pressure lifted off my bed, it hit me, hard. I knew what he was doing. Now I raised my head, now I opened my eyes... but it was too late. Heero was gone. Gone. And I had done nothing to stop him.  
  
The others didn't seem that worried when they heard the next morning. Sometimes I almost got the feeling that they didn't care about the pilot, but that certainly wasn't true. I know Quatre seemed to see something worthwhile in him, and the way Trowa looked at him definitely made me want to beat him up some, and if Wufei had any thoughts whatsoever, he probably liked the kid. But really, it was me that cared most. Don't ask me why. There's just something about him that screams, hold me, love me, this is a mask, take it off. I used to hate those kinds of people...  
  
I don't hate him.  
  
In fact, I love him. But that's a secret. You get killed for thinking things like that.  
  
Especially when it's about Mr. #1 Sandwich Yuy.  
  
So, today was the year anniversary of his disappearance. We knew a month after he was gone that he was dead. There was a report of an OZ base blown to the sky, then... nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing. There was no rational hope of him being alive.  
  
I'm not a very rational person.  
  
Which was why, of all the million and one better places I could think of being, I was at the house of the Foreign Minister herself.  
  
Relena Peacecraft.  
  
Now, of course you agree with me that Heero's an awful name, but Peacecraft? How bad do you get?  
  
Anyway.  
  
After awhile of waiting, a butler opened the door and gave my clothes a critical look. I looked just fine: cool white tee and the usual black pants (okay, so the pants were about a half size too small, but nothing too noticeable, right?). It took me some time to convince him that yes, I was a Gundam pilot, and no, I wasn't going to assassinate Relena (oddly enough, I'll bet that if it was Heero that showed up the door, he'd be let in without an hesitation. Oh, Heero...) but finally I was admitted to see her. She seemed to have grown up a lot; she was what, 18 now? 19?  
  
It occurred to me that I didn't know how old _I_ was. It was vaguely disturbing.  
  
Anyway, I got served tea, and these cookie things that looked wonderful but tasted awful. Finally, she inquired on why the heck I had come.  
  
"I just wanted to know if anyone gave you the news about Heero," I said slowly.  
  
She looked oddly eager. "Yes? What about him? Did he finally decide?"  
  
"Decide... what?" I looked at her blankly.  
  
A secret little smile was my only answer. "Never mind that. Well?"  
  
"Relena... he's... dead." It was hard to choke it out. Saying those words out loud it gave reality a finality that seemed almost wrong. We had never spoken it... never let it be true...  
  
Her cup crashed to the ground and she shrieked, staring at me, stark white. "What?! What do you mean he's dead? Since when?"  
  
I looked down. "I... I thought you might have known... or I'd have come sooner. It's been almost a year now..."

The words were painful enough to say, but I was really, really not expecting the harsh blow to my cheek. I've been in hundreds of fights and came out grinning every time, but there's just something about being slapped by a girl that completely destroys you. I stared up at her furious face.  
  
"Duo Maxwell! I should have guessed that you'd do something so awful like that! I cannot believe your gall! I don't want to see your face here again!" Her voice was deafening, and scary. I didn't understand this at all.  
  
"If he's been dead for a year, then who did I just see last week, hmm? Next time, at least have your lies make sense!"  
  
Last week. Last week. I saw him last week. She was on the last word when I was already out the door, running. Running. Relena doesn't lie. Heero was alive...  
  
Alive...  
  
Alive...  
  
There was hope after all.  
  
There was hope...

* * *

So, what do you think? It's a little fast, maybe, but it's looking promising. Do you like it? Let me know. Do you see something entirely vital you just have to tell me about? Let me know that, too.


	2. In

Chapter 2: Heero Yuy  
  
Balanced. Poised. Secure.

I could stay in this one position forever. While it was a bit unwieldy for some, it didn't effect me. Unmoving, unbreathing nearly, just watching, waiting.

There were no more missions. I was waiting for nothing, stalking my own small apartment, standing, expecting. The door was the target, I think. It didn't really matter any more. Nothing did.

What does the perfect soldier do at the end of the war?

Go mad, damn it.

At least my computer held episodes I could relive. I think J knew that the war would end someday and he made me keep recordings of our missions. There was no other reason to keep these, and I'm not sure if I'm glad I have, really. It's not like I've forgotten any of them.

But they weren't what I wanted right now, so I stalked my door, and waited. For what... I didn't even know. Someone, perhaps.

It had been a year now. A year, and no messages, no contacts, no news. How were my age-old companions doing? What went on through their heads now? It was amazing how much I thought about them. Things kept appearing in my head: the way Quatre's eyes widened just slightly before he was going to laugh, the way sun glinted off of Strongarms, how Duo made his mech move in battle. I wondered if any of them had died in that base attack. Why was it launched?

Why, oh why, hadn't they looked for me here?

Why had they forgotten me?

I even registered this dingy apartment under one of my more arcane and recognizable aliases, in hopes that... no, why would it be in hopes? I went away so they wouldn't find me. But my unconscious mind took over as always, and so that's what I'm filed under.

The loneliness, which I had always sought—thought I sought—was driving me mad. So for the last two months, I was visiting the one contact I could safely go to that wouldn't give me away: Relena. It wasn't the best of arrangements. She was always too happy to see me, and lately, she seemed to be pressing for something. What, I haven't the faintest idea. Why does she think I love her?...

I don't.

I don't know why, but I don't. I think that was something that was programmed into me long ago. 'Take no prisoners, leave no witnesses, and oh yes, don't fall in love with the Prime Minister's daughter.' Or anyone else for that matter.

I didn't love her.

I couldn't, not when I loved...

But...

It doesn't really matter. I don't want them to find me.

That's when someone knocked on my door. Adrenaline rushed through me instantly. Here was the kill; here was the goal... I glanced at the clock. Here was the mailman. I never had any mail but bills, but for some reason the young lady insisted on delivering to me by hand. She also turned bright red while doing so and made a noise I believe is called 'tittering'. Reminds me a bit of Relena. She does things like that, too.

I walked over to the door, wondering if threatening to kill the girl would scare her away or endear her more. I opened it. And yes, the person standing there had long braided hair, but it was of a color and thickness that I didn't believe I'd see again. For the first time in my life, I was really and truly speechless. Always before, there were things I could have said, responses I could have made, but...

Duo.

Duo.

Duo.

I couldn't believe it, and apparently, he couldn't either. I had never heard him be quiet for this long out of battle. He just stared at me, and I did little better. Surely... he hadn't known... why had he waited this long to find me...

"Relena said you would be here," he said weakly. And then fell to the floor, unconscious, the stress and exhaustion finally overtaking him.

Trust Duo to ruin something like this.

I dragged him over to the couch and pulled him onto it, grunting at the effort. The boy was heavy. I certainly hadn't been eating enough lately, and it was telling on my thin frame. Maybe I would have to start eating more.

Why am I even thinking about this?

Duo.

Why are you here?

It doesn't matter.

You are.


	3. Action

Chapter 3: Duo Maxwell

_ He had dashed to the city hall, slamming on the desk in his eagerness and demanding to see the machines that held the lists of residents. They refused until he flashed that badge he still kept, the one that proclaimed him Gundam pilot, and instantly he was led in front of officials so high the Ministress herself was outranked by them. They smiled and bowed and ushered him suddenly to wherever he wanted to go, letting him into access banks that were, theoretically, impossibly guarded but held codes broken instantly by his desperate fingers. He scrolled through lines after lines of text and images, searching first stupidly under 'Heero Yuy' and then under each of the young man's aliases. Finally, after nearly giving up hope, he found one that held a match- Earl Gyros, one he had made up himself and jokingly suggested Heero use, knowing the Japanese boy wouldn't understand the meaning. It was as if Heero knew he would look for him someday, and gave him hope after the nearly 72 hour relentless search. 3461 Hawksmeade, Appt. 423. Success at last._

I woke up to a huge feeling of sadness. It had just been a dream, all of it. My mad sprint, street after street, frantic questions that I should have just asked Relena to begin with, but no, I never stop to think anything out, and then looking through that door at last and seeing him. Heero... alive? Yeah, right. I rolled over.

And fell off the couch.

We don't own a couch.

He was sitting on the other end.

I watched as he unconcernedly glanced up from the book he was reading. "So, you're finally awake."  
I couldn't do anything but stare for a moment, my usual chatterbox self completely shut off. I mean, that was Heero Yuy sitting there! He's dead! He's gone!

"You're not alive," I muttered, half to myself. This wasn't real.

He raised a brow and went back to his book. I noticed he wasn't reading it; he was just looking at it. He was actually paying attention!

"But... Heero... I mean... dude! What are you doing here? Why did you leave? Why have you been talking to Relena? Why didn't you contact us!" I was practically shouting at this point.

He shrugged and turned a page, although I noticed he still wasn't actually reading it. "Don't faint again."

"Me, faint? I..." I paused. I certainly didn't remember falling asleep, but I didn't remember anything after seeing him, either. But fainting was so... so... unDuo-like that I couldn't believe that's what happened.

"You haven't been keeping up on your training, Duo," he said, looking towards me for the first time. That's when I saw it, just the slightest spark, the madness and... fear in his eyes. Fear? Of what?

Himself.

It occurred to me then that a war which to us was a passing nuisance was his entire life. And now that it was gone...

For some reason I didn't feel fear. I only felt... pity. And for some stupid reason, I just knew that I was going to have to be the one to fix this.

"Heero, why did you leave?" I asked, more softly this time. The last thing I wanted to do was push him over the edge, or scare him away. I don't think I could bear him leaving again.

He looked back at the book. "Does it matter? You're not my keeper, Duo."

What out-of-date movie did he get that line from? I could barely remember the rest of it, but it flittered out of mind, and it wasn't important anyway.

"Look, you scared us all so bad, I just don't understand; why did you leave?" I said, beginning to get agitated, despite my resolve not to. The rest of my self control was keeping myself from leaping at him.

Heero said nothing, only set down his book, carefully marking the page with a scrap of paper. Finally he looked at me again. "Why would it matter if I stayed?" he asked.

What was I supposed to answer to that? Because I love you? Because you can't have a set of characters 1-5 without a one? Because those blue eyes could melt through stone, how I missed them...

"Heero, we need you," I decided upon.

He smirked slightly. "Hnn. Right. What battles am I required for, Duo?" Heero stood up, those lovely eyes so full of pain they were hurting me. "There's nothing you need me for."

There was nothing I could say, either. The only thing I could think of involved sandwiches and him watching that smog-filtered window for hours on end and that all I really, really wanted was for him to glare and call me a stupid baka just once more. I could tell him all about sitting at the table with Trowa and Quatre making out at one end, and me trying to make small talk with Wu Fei. Heero wouldn't like to hear about the banana we set up inside his Gundam—which is probably pretty well rotted by now; the banana, I mean—the one we drew eyes on and added yarn hair and named Heroic Fruit, nor would he care about how we set out a dinner plate every day for him, every damn day, and took it back, every day, and how the week after he was gone I slept on his bed and cried until I was sick.

So I blurted out the only thing I could think of. "You left your laptop."

"I've got a better one now." He pointed at the slim black model sitting on the counter, which was, admittedly, cooler in every way.

"Why don't you want to come back?" I said desperately. Was it me? Did he not like the climate? He was idly flicking at one of his nails and the movement was so familiar that I was sorely tempted once more to break down and fling myself at him. It took effort to focus on the fact that wouldn't endear him too much to me, if he didn't hate me already.

Heero looked away and watched the couch for so long that I thought he might have forgotten I was there. When he spoke, his voice cracked. Heero's voice. I was almost too stunned to listen to what he was saying. "When my letter wasn't responded to... I realized that I didn't have any reason to return."

"Heero? What letter are you talking about?" I asked, starting to feel rather ill. Letter?

He frowned at the couch. "The one I put inside the stuffed bear Quatre gave me."

Now I was convinced that I was going to be sick. "We... buried that in the backyard of the old house in your memory."

This time, he looked over at me for a few moments. "Whose idea was that?"

"...mine," I answered miserably.

Heero remained in that position for a while longer, then almost, almost smiled. "I should have expected that."

"Couldn't you have put it in a more reasonable place?" My mind was whirring frantically, trying to figure out what that letter could have contained

."That was the place we agreed to hide emergency messages," He frowned at me. "You were the one who suggested it."

I could not have felt more stupid if he had reminded me of the time I confused paste for cake frosting and ended up sending myself to the hospital for the first time without a bullet wound. The bear letter system really had been my idea, although we had never put it into practice. For the first time, I was really wishing that I hadn't come at all, that I had taken a few minutes to sit down and actually think about things. I never have been reasonable when it comes to Heero, though.

"I'm sorry," I said, shaking slightly now. Something brushed against my skin and I glanced down, realizing that I had been shredding the scrap of paper his address had been written on in my agitation. The white pieces flashed in the lamp light as they fell to the ground and I think they were laughing.

My favorite sandwich watched me for a long moment, and then shrugged. "Want anything to eat?"

I wondered when I had last ate and realized that I couldn't remember. 'Ah,' I thought, 'That must have been why I... fainted.'

"Sure," I said. "Anything sounds good."

Glancing at the kitchen, he smirked suddenly. "Even glue?"

I flushed. He still remembered that? Then again, Heero has always had a perfect memory. "It was paste. It's supposed to be non-toxic."

"Nn." My black-haired boy crossed over to the other room, and I could hear the quiet sounds of the fridge and various doors opening and closing.

Now I had a moment to think, and I took advantage of it while he was busy making whatever. I couldn't really recall if Heero was a good cook or not, but I wasn't able to come up with any particularly bad meals, and anything really did sound good to me now. Though, there was that one time that he put salt on strawberries, and--I really need to learn how to focus.

When I glanced towards the kitchen, Heero was standing there in the doorway, to my surprise. "What is it?" I asked.

"You aren't smiling," he said after a few moments of watching me.

That was new.

"It's just... I guess it's really my fault that you left, then, huh," I answered.

"Yes." Heero went back into the kitchen.

I jumped to my feet, all the emotion I felt at seeing him again suddenly attacking me. "What do you mean, yes!"

He glanced back absently. "Yes, you're the reason I left."

That was certainly not what I wanted to hear."You aren't supposed to say that!" I shouted back. Some rational part of my mind tried to knock the other half out and was trampled.

"I'm not a liar," he replied in that same absent, icy tone. He had always been cold, but it had never affected me as strongly as it did now.

"You could be nicer about it!" I snapped. The rational part was now in shreds and had little hope of recovering.

He pulled a knife out of the drawer and started cutting up what looked to be a sandwich. "Nicer about not being a liar?"

"Why did you leave because of me?" My voice was desperate and I hated it. I watched him cut the sandwich in half, then into fourths, and when he cut it into eights I realized his hand was shaking. He seemed to notice this too and stood there for a few moments, taking several deep breaths before putting the knife away. Guilt cut into me as sharply as the instrument had the bread. I hadn't meant to upset him, not really.

Several times he seemed about to say something, but each time he stopped just before speaking. I don't think I had ever seen him like this before. Finally, Heero handed me my sandwich and walked back to the other room, sitting down in front of the laptop and tuning me out.

I went by him to look over his shoulder, knowing he hated that, but the boy didn't even seem to notice I was there. He muttered something, and I leaned forward.

"What?"Heero jumped up and glared at me, beautiful eyes icy again, and snapped the laptop shut behind him.

"Nothing. Nothing at all." He pushed past and stormed out of the room, leaving me behind... abandoned again.

* * *

Well... it's only been what... a year? ; And no, I'm not obsessed with sandwiches. Actually, I don't eat them at all. The only kinds I really like are turkey, lettuce, tomato, and honey mustard. Mmm. Anyway, tell me what you think... and I promise I'll update sooner for the next one.  



	4. Status

Chapter 4: Heero Yuy  
  
Pain. It was there; it consumed me. Pain has no place in my heart, and I do not know how the feeling came to be contained inside it. Opening the little door labeled love seems to inevitably install a dog-flap for pain to enter and tear you apart.  
  
Everything was my fault. I had anticipated, dreamed, and imagined every word I could say should any of them arrive to stand at that door. The quizzical look I would give Quatre, the warm silence should it be Trowa, and even, in the extremely unlikely chance that it should be Wu Fei standing there, the companionable nod that would be my answer to his presence. But it was the possibility that Duo would be the one knocking at my door that I had drilled over, and over, and over again, coming up with every response to every possible scenario that could occur.  
  
And then, just as I had ignored the 'never fall in love' line the doctor had drilled into me, all of my training went to pieces. He, Duo, had nearly been crying and it was all entirely my fault.  
  
I sat on the end of my bed and lay back on the suitcase that had been sitting there, gathering dust, since the day I had arrived in this place. It had hurt too much to unpack it—there was that pain again—and it wasn't like I slept on the bed. I don't deserve to sleep on a bed.  
  
Duo was still in my living room. He cursed softly, and then all was silent. The only option I had left him, I realized, was to leave, and a sudden, desperate fear gripped me. Despite my humiliatingly cowardly escape moments earlier, I had to go back in.  
  
Opening my door with the usual stealthy skills I always (foolishly) employed, I crept back outside. There I was surprised to see Duo lying on his side on the couch, arm flung over his face, not jumping around and chittering for once. He always lays on his back. I should know; I've spent enough time watching him sleep. It's comforting to do so, and... well.  
  
After a moment or two I realized that I was doing nothing but standing there, watching him, and so I went over to the couch. I tried saying his name, tried to say anything at all, but I realized that I couldn't speak and gave up.  
  
Finally, he sighed and sat up. I don't think he noticed me and... there were tears on his cheeks. The sight of those joyful violet eyes so distraught cut off my speaking abilities even further.  
  
He noticed me right then and jumped up, painful expression instantly gone; he hides his feelings as well as I hide mine. "Jesus! Don't you make any noise?!"  
  
It took me another length of time before realizing he wanted an answer—it had been so long since I talked to anyone, as Relena just expected me to nod now and then—but it was really too late now to respond to his question, so I shrugged instead. He glared at me; I can never stand it when I see him doing that.  
  
For the first time, I wondered if it ever upset anyone that I never smiled. I wondered if it upset him.  
  
"Sorry," I said finally, after I realized that he wasn't going to say anything else. There were tears still on his cheeks where he hadn't managed to brush them away in time and it was ripping me apart. I caused those.  
  
Duo shrugged and looked away. "Whatever." He reached out and grabbed his sandwich and took a huge bite out of it, expression that cute pouting look he got when he wanted to look upset but wasn't really. I knew he was using it to cover up the fact he truly was upset, and it made me sad.  
  
You will not let on to anyone that I used the word 'cute' in a sentence.  
  
He thrust a half of the most messy banana and peanut butter sandwich I have ever seen in my life into my face and I took it, feeling guilty about ruining the other ones.  
  
"You doht eat 'nough," he garbled around a mouthful of the other half of the sandwich. Duo can be so endearingly... cute, sometimes, when he wants to be. Even the glare he gave me when I didn't immediately take the sandwich was cute. I loathe peanut butter entirely but took it from him anyway and nibbled as best as I could on the edges.  
  
He got up after awhile and walked to the window over the kitchen sink, looking out at the rusted escape ladder, or at least that's what I assume, since that's all that is visible from there. There was a stain on the back of his white shirt—chocolate, from the looks of it—and a rip in the back pocket of his jeans. Duo was usually meticulous about his clothing, and a sudden worry hit me. What if he had changed? What if the boy I used to spend hours watching every night wasn't the same as the one standing before me now?  
  
Then he turned around to look at me, and I relaxed. The same quizzical look, loose braid, and resigned-yet-amused expression were all still there. Of course there were some differences; his movements now were in beautifully graceful arcs instead of his old halted strides and gestures, and his emotions seemed to be hidden far less than they were during the war. Duo made himself to seem open and explosive but often felt something completely different than what he was showing to others.  
  
I hope he never realized how much I watched him.  
  
"What are you looking at?" He asked, and I was almost off guard enough to say what I was thinking.  
  
"Nothing," I answered, and his eyes went instantly enraged. Inwardly, I cringed, although I know this did not display on my face, something I occasionally regretted.  
  
Duo glared at me and moved forward. "I shouldn't have come here," he spat. I had never seen him like this. "I should have just left you alone."  
  
"Wait, Duo," I whispered but, just like before, he didn't seem to hear me.  
  
"You're just... an idiot, you know that? There's people that care about you, and you'd rather be here, by yourself, in the dark. Well, fine. If you want that, you can have that!" He stormed over to my door, but it had safety locked behind him, and I use a 10 digit code as my password. After a few moments of futilely pushing buttons, he gave up and whipped around to face me, furious, but behind his mask, I could tell he was crying again. "Let me out, damn it!"  
  
What could I say? No? He wouldn't understand. I waited, and then went over to the door, slowly punching in the code. 3. 8. 6. 6. 2. 9. 9. 3. 5. 5. Duo Maxwell. I always felt idiotic and rather like Relena whenever I used it, as I have no doubt that she would get her phone number changed to Heero Yuy if she could, although I'm not really sure why she feels that way about me. Just as I'm rather unsure why I chose those ten numbers to keep safe what I cared about most.  
  
I left my finger on the second-to-last 5 and then dropped my hand, not able to complete the task. Duo took this to mean that the door was unlocked and turned the handle, then yelled as it went red hot, burning his fingers. He gripped his reddening hand with his other, glaring at me again. "Yuy!"  
  
Reaching over silently, I fished into a glass sitting beside the door for a piece of ice and started to hold one out before stopping. Then, for the first time I can remember, I touched him—took his hand in mine, slowly pressing the ice against his burned fingers. Duo stiffened, although whether from annoyance at my touch or the shock of the ice, I didn't know. I held like that until my fingers went numb and the cube melted into water. The entire time, he had not said a work, but neither had he pulled away. It felt... strange, to be this close to someone.  
  
"I forgot that you always use a 10 key password," Duo said, back to his usual self now, which made me feel better. "Why didn't you finish it, anyway? You can't tell me you couldn't remember your own code."  
  
I couldn't come up with a reasonable excuse, so I just looked at him for a moment before turning away.  
  
"You just want me to stay here, don't you," he said with a grin. This startled me and I paused to try and come up with an answer before giving up and just shrugging again. Of course I wanted him to stay, but I could never tell him that. I don't know why I can't say what I want to; it's just always been that way with me.  
  
Duo did a show of imitating me glaring and looking uncomfortable, and then laughed. "I'd forgotten what a bastard you are. It's good to see you again, Heero." He went back to flop down on the couch, did a brief search for a remote I don't own, then performed a pantomime of being disgusted with having to walk the whole three steps over to turn on the TV. Static greeted him with every channel. I sat down on the opposite end of the couch and powered up my laptop again while he cursed and checked the wiring.  
  
"The DC player works," I told him after I got bored with his swearing. "But I don't have cable."  
  
"You couldn't have told me that earlier?" He glared at me, then immediately forgot what he was mad about and pounced on my DC collection, throwing it completely out of order in a matter of seconds. "Hey! They're all unlabeled! How am I supposed to know what they are if they're all blank?"  
  
I added a few lines of code to the program I had been working on before looking up to answer him. "You could put them in and find out." Luckily I noticed which DC he was holding just before he put the cube into the player. "Not that one."  
  
"Why? Is it a porno?" Duo looked interested and grinned. "Or maybe it contains your secret plan to clone yourself and use all the Gundams to take over the colonies. Or your marriage proposal speech to Relena!"  
  
That annoyed me. "Just pick a different DC," I said. The boy could be awfully persistent but I couldn't give in to this particular request. If he saw what was on that particular recording, he would leave. The thought was horrifying to me no matter how I tried to repress it.  
  
I didn't want to be alone again.  
  
I didn't want... him... to leave. It was selfish, but the truth.  
  
Duo gave up and grabbed a different DC, putting it in the holo- projector. A life-sized picture of Quatre covered in mud popped up on the screen, and a slightly younger Duo ran past, making a face at the recorder before flinging another dirt clod at the blonde-haired boy. The real Duo threw himself back on the middle of the couch, watching with wide eyes.  
  
"This is from Trowa's birthday party!" He breathed. "Wu Fei always wondered what happened to this... you took it?" Duo's eyes were gleaming as he looked at me; this seemed to sit with him well. I nodded, and he laughed. "Awesome."  
  
He looked... cute, again, like that.  
  
Quatre yelled at the on-screen Duo, blushing like mad, then yelled at Wu Fei to stop recording, which failed to happen. Instead, he panned over to the door, where Trowa was coming outside with a very surprised and confused look on his face—surprised, because it's not often you see a mud covered Quatre, and confused, as his birthday wasn't for another two weeks (Duo's fault, again). The screen showed static for a bit and then cut to Trowa and Quatre making out on the table; their first kiss, if I remember correctly, although I thought it was a bit excessive. Duo could be heard laughing the background, then yelping and swearing after Wu Fei hit him and told him to shut up.  
  
The real Duo scowled. "That had really hurt, you know." He looked over at me. "I think you joined us then... I remember you took one look at them and went back inside."  
  
I shrugged. "They were being rather extreme." Duo laughed at this, and I felt pleased again for having made him do so.  
  
After that DC was finished, he put in another, and another, and we watched them together, sometimes commenting, sometimes not. At one point he got up and made ice-cream, which gave me an opportunity to hide the cube he had almost put in the player earlier. When he went to put the dishes back later, he remarked, very surprised, that it was nearly midnight. I, who had been keeping track of the time now and then, nodded.  
  
"I should probably be going," Duo said, staring at his empty bowl. He sounded almost hurt, like it was my fault the time was going by so fast. "Are you sure you're not coming back?"  
  
I didn't want to talk about that. What could I say? Instead, I commented on the only thing I could think of. "It's late. Why don't you just stay here tonight and leave in the morning?"  
  
Was that a grin he quickly hid? "Sure," he replied casually. "Do I get the couch or the floor?"  
  
"You can have the bed, if you'd like," I replied. Why did I offer him that? Whenever I get a room to myself, I never let anyone into it. I can't help being paranoid. Would Duo suspect?  
  
"Nah. It's your apartment. Besides, I like this couch." He threw himself down on it without another word, closing his eyes, the popped up again immediately. "Unless you wanna stay up some more, that is."  
  
I shook my head: I often slept during the day and stayed awake at night, but being with Duo this whole time had worn me out. Additionally, sitting that close to him on a couch in the dark was beginning to wear on my nerves. I went into my room and tore the blankets off of my bed—I never used those, either—and brought them back to him. Duo's eyes light up when he saw them as they were flannel, his favorite material. I never really cared for heavy blankets of that sort and I think he was a little suspicious, but he didn't comment, and instead merely threw them over his head and curled into a, yes, cute, ball.  
  
"Goodnight, Heero!" He chirped, apparently happy with this.  
  
"Good... night," I replied softly. How long had it been since I had said that? Duo looked up at me, surprised, and I remembered too late that I never, ever answered him before when he would say that to me. Instead of getting into introspection about myself, I went back to my room, closing the door behind me.  
  
And maybe smiled, just a little.

* * *

After going through and re-reading the series again, I realized just how many grammatical and word errors there were due to the fact I always forget to proofread before posting, so I went through and (hopefully) fixed all of them. I also did this so I could express surprise at a few reviews that asked why this was dragging on so long. The story was always meant to fill up all of the words in the title (so, five chapters) and since Duo/Heero is the whole point of this, they were always meant to get together on the fifth chapter. Also, I really wanted to get in depth into the characters of Duo and Heero, and not follow the route nearly every writer makes of 'Hey, I like you' 'Hey, I like you too' 'Let's make out' 'Okay!' Although this occurs often in a lot of fic genres, Gundam has it the worst, and I wanted to put together a piece in which the characters actually act like real people (er, animated ones) and don't go completely OOC in the first chapter. Both of them, especially Heero, have a lot of unresolved issues that would stop them from simply shagging on the first 'I' in 'love you' and I wanted something where that wouldn't happen. /end semi-rant Anyway, next chapter should be up soon-ish... thanks for all of the reviews, BTW, and I do appreciate the 'too slow!' ones, I just wanted to explain why that was =) 


	5. F

Chapter 5: Duo Maxwell... Part 1 

Years ago, on the cold nights while I huddled on my hospital bunk, I promised myself that I would never be lonely again, and that I would achieve this end by taking other lonely people and making them my friends. When I met Heero, I was delighted—and then Relena showed up almost immediately, dashing my hopes for obtaining a new buddy. I mean, it was nice of her to take him in, but that was what I had wanted to do. It didn't become much of an issue until later, when I got to know him, and knew, as corny as it sounded, that I wanted to be with him forever. When Heero started looking a bit green whenever anyone mentioned Relena's name, I found hope again.

But now, knowing that he had visited her for an entire year without seeing any of us...

How have you changed, Heero? Why go to her?

What the heck does your letter in the garden say?

This thought almost tempted me to run home and find out myself, but I realized that would mean leaving him again. Not to mention the fact that the locked door kept me from getting out of the room. This seemed to be quite a fire hazard and I wondered why it was installed at all. Then again, since Heero is technically the only one that needs to get out and he knows the password, maybe it's not a problem.

There I go, rambling again.

His sandwich was still sitting in the kitchen, each of the eight cuts perfectly formed and useless in the dark. I knew that was how he felt about himself. Why didn't he realize that, despite his apparent uselessness, there was still perfectly good filling inside?

I spent a few minutes buried in my flannel heaven, happily arranging myself on the surprisingly comfortable couch. That accomplished, I crossed over to the plant in the corner, and reached under the trick hollow base to get the DC he had hidden there earlier. Heero was very smart, but had an endearing quality of being very predictable if you knew him well. It seemed that he hadn't changed in that respect, at least. I popped the cube in the player and turned the TV on, making sure to lower the volume all the way first.

Pictures starting appearing on the screen—-still shots, which surprised me, as everything else we had watched were movies. Trowa dripping from a bucket of water that had been dumped on him at his actual birthday; Quatre hanging upside-down from a tree branch in a rare display of immaturity; Wu Fei hollering at me after I had spray painted his bedroom walls pink. All of the clips were cute, and a few I had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing aloud at. To my great surprise, the show ended a few minutes later without anything overly controversial playing. I let it run in blackness for awhile, just to be sure, and then ejected it, quite puzzled.

Finally, I smacked my forehead and put the cube back in, making sure to turn the volume up just enough so that I could hear it. A poem was being read in the background, the cadence going with the speed of the slides.

_ "My love walks in the darkness,  
But he casts his own light.  
Shadows do not daunt him  
In the quiet growing night.  
He makes my blackness falter,  
The sadness goes away,  
I know now forever  
His is the only way  
For me to follow now.  
In the lasting darkness  
It is his light I find  
A kind of quiet starkness  
In the silence."_

The poem was sweet and made me smile, as did a second viewing of Trowa with his hands held back by Wu Fei while I pulled his hair up to get the only shot we ever got with both his eyes showing. However, I hadn't found anything that was worth hiding from me yet.

_ "His russet hair defines him,  
Long locks on the ground;  
In battle he is peerless as  
The enemies come down."_

Russet. Russet means brown. I paused the player, staring. Is it... possible... that... he cared about me? Me? Was that honestly what the poem was saying? I had long brown hair. I don't know about peerless-—I've never tried to fight against Heero—-but I'm a damn good pilot. But... me. I had loved him for so long that the possibility of returned feelings was so foreign I couldn't comprehend it. Trying to convince myself that the poem meant nothing, I reached out and managed to press play again.

_"The movements light the fires  
Of dreams without an end  
His jade eyes smile on me  
Love from my dearest friend."_

I was running before I could even stop myself, before my rational mind could even start to consider things; first to the locked door, and then to the window, shoving it open and dropping down through the ladder to the street below. It wasn't until I reached the park, dead silent and black this late at night, that I was able to stop and throw myself behind a tree, too numb to weep or move. The brief few moments of bliss had shattered me.

How could I have missed it? Every move, every look, and every slight smile he ever made ran through my mind. I think he even commented more during the shots of Trowa during the night.

That was the letter in the bear. That was what he had whispered earlier in the day. How could I have ever thought it was me? He obviously knew I cared about him; that's why he didn't want to show me the recording. At least he respected my feelings to an extent.

I curled up silently, wrapping my arms around my legs to keep out the chill of the hour, and closed my eyes, where I could pretend I was back at the safe house and had never, ever come.

* * *

I decided to be evil and post the ending one section at a time, but fairly regularly (it's almost entirely written, so maybe every other day or so.) I hope you enjoy it... I'm still debating on whether to have it end typically (I'm sure you can guess what that is) or rather more differently. What do you think? 


	6. O

**Part II: Heero Yuy**

Now that I was forced to sleep on the bed, I found I was completely unable to. The springs seemed more uncomfortable than the floor, and the dust of the sheets itched my nose. Of course, I didn't sneeze—J had trained me over and over to resist any body functions of that sort—but it irritated me enough that sleep evaded me even after I went through my resting exercises. I had slept in caves, on the sides of cliffs, and in trees, but could not manage to rest on the supposedly comfortable mattress. Finally I gave up and lay on the bare floor instead.

I had designed my room to be absolutely silent. Room design was one of the options granted to me in thanks for my sizeable rent check. It was one of the few benefits offered that I took, along with enough locks to leave me unconcerned about someone breaking in while I couldn't hear them. I also left nothing that was worth stealing or had a chance of being stolen in the outer rooms, anyway.

Tonight, however, so much noise danced in my mind that the soundlessness scarcely mattered. My life was back. I almost had a purpose again and the very idea made me want to laugh with joy, if I allowed myself emotions.

Duo was entirely made of emotions. Complex, wonderful emotions that made me want to, once or twice, smile in return. It was one of the few things I had regretted not telling him about before I left. He always thought that I hated his buoyant exuberance, and it bothered me in the beginning, but I had grown to like that as much as I cared about him. Duo would not be the same without his sudden outbursts, contagious grin, and upbeat personality. I didn't want him to be any different, ever.

It occurred to me, in a moment that made me sit up and freeze, that I could tell him now. I could tell him everything—what I thought of him, what I saw. If he grew disgusted and left, I would finally be free of the sentiments that chained me to this apartment, and if he stayed…

There was nothing to lose, I realized.I opened the door, stepping out into the living room, a real smile on my face for the first time I could remember. I was breaking a multitude of self records tonight.

He was gone.

For a moment, I stood and watched the open window, and felt my heart close over for the last time.

He was gone.

* * *

Very, very short, I know... but the next part (which is still currently unfinished) should be up soon. Enjoy! 


	7. U

**Part III: Duo Maxwell**  
  
It didn't take me long to realize that laying on the park's slightly muddy ground probably wasn't the way I wanted to spend the rest of the evening. The small part of my brain that remained to function made me get up and start walking home. It was only a few miles back to the base, and the thought of talking to anyone to get a ride left me cold. I didn't want to see anyone ever again.  
  
Of course, I knew I was being irrational. I didn't have solid proof that he loved Trowa. I only had extremely good evidence that it was true, I kept reminding myself bitterly. Not only that, it was extremely stupid to ever think Heero could care about me. He expressed his disgust in so many ways and I was a fool yet again to have ignored that. Heero was the death god, not me. He was beautiful, poised, confident in his every move. I could only fake what he did naturally all the time.  
  
You know, once in awhile, I would read something where the hero/heroine 'moved on' from their lost love one. There had never been a thought of 'moving on' from him, even after we all knew he was dead. There had been no one else to move on to. Who could compare to Heero?  
  
And now he was alive again, and... in love with one of my closest friends. Finally I stopped, giving myself a mental slap.  
He had to know that Trowa was together with Quatre and that was never likely to change. Their relationship had started quite before he left, as I remembered from the shots he had of them together. Was he willing to suffer that much for someone he could never have? It finally made sense of why he left the house, and why he wouldn't tell me.  
  
Now I felt the sudden need to know what really had been written in that letter. What did it say? Did he ask Trowa to leave his beloved, or did Heero merely write down his feelings (Heero? Feelings?) in words? My curiosity overrode my common sense, which had taken a trip to the Third Colony by now and wasn't likely to return for awhile.  
  
Our home looked like the slums that surrounded it, but inside was a different matter. So was breaking into the backyard, which could give you a few hundred volts of electricity and a memory wipe if you didn't do it correctly. However, being myself, I had made sure that a loophole was installed just in case I needed to get in that way, and entering through the house now seemed like a death sentence.  
  
So I climbed the tallest tree next to the fence, bent back the third twig on the fifth branch, and vaulted over the barricade during my three second opening. I picked myself off the ground, not really worrying about any scratches or further mud stains that may have caused, and walked over to the small flower garden Wu Fei kept in the corner. Finding the spot where we buried the bear, I started digging: first with my hands, and then, when my brain recovered, a small hand shovel I found nearby.  
  
The poor bear was not in good shape, with both eyes missing and a lot of the fur digested away, but I really could care less about it at this point. I tore open the side seam and reached in, finding that against all odds, the letter was still intact and legible. Watching it for a few moments, I finally got up the nerve and pried it open, adrenaline draining out of me.  
  
No matter what it says, I won't care. The fact that he loves Trowa is irrelevant. But I have to know what this says.  
  
_"Duo,"_ it began. I wondered why.  
  
_"Duo,  
j335xk4,q5x6u4,q00o3x05fuw5r;0przawl"_  
  
The first part was one the most basic code we could get him to use, based on the keyboard. Heero hated it because the spaces were both included and gave clues on how to break the code, and he would only use it for the most mundane reasons. Often we'd find messages like _'23xj44r,3ttw'_ and _'e60- ,w53qo8htxk7,w9diwxk050j;'_ laying around the house, which made us laugh and then threaten to strangle him. Remembering this gave me a fresh pang of hurt, and I looked back at the message.  
  
_'0przawl'_ was in a different code, one I couldn't decipher without further context. Allowing this to sink in, I realized that there wasn't any point in me following through with the message. 'Meet me in the apple orchard' was difficult, now. However... Heero could be unusually playful at times. There was a chance that he had left a message there also.  
  
Putting the letter in my pocket, I re-buried the bear and vaulted over the fence again, which wasn't set to attack anyone trying to leave. Now I was in a position to realize just how cool the night was, which annoyed me. I was still wearing the now-filthy white shirt and black jeans from days ago, which clung to my skin in uncomfortable and annoying ways. This provided a welcome distraction from my earlier grief as I headed towards the apple orchard.  
  
Just focus on clothes... everything will be fine.  
  
I made my way to the 'apple orchard', which was actually another tiny park near the house. It had a broken-down swing-set, a graffiti-labeled slide that we'd come down every so often to and fix the grammar and spelling, and a crab apple tree that always smelled horrible and attracted bees like Heero to a battle. And yes, indeed, I could see a faint gleam of white paper hidden in a hole left by the removal of one of the tree's branches. Pulling it out, I sat down on the end of the slide next to a hastily scribbled 'fk u' and started to read.  
  
_"2,  
Since you are still not here, I know you aren't coming. 9t,697x6584p7, 2wyx6,rhexkl,qi8wxszd.vhdlz"_  
  
How long had he waited? Why did he want to talk to me of all people, anyway? I reread the letter morosely to decode it. Because it was in a public location, he put it even more heavily in code, leaving out a lot of the vowels, which made things more difficult for me. It basically said that if I wanted to find him, I should look for Earl Gyros, something I had already found out but information I could have easily used a year ago. The letter looked almost new... he must have given up fairly recently. Who knew Heero was this much of a romantic?  
  
I sighed and flipped the letter over, scanning the back. There was some very faint writing there, and I squinted, trying to read it. It looked like a poem again.  
  
_"His russet hair defines him,  
Long locks on the ground;  
In battle he is peerless as  
The enemies come down."  
  
"The movements light the fires  
Of dreams without an end  
His jade eyes smile on me  
Love from my dearest friend."  
  
"Blue eyes are a blessing;  
His smile fair and true.  
Brown ones may be cold as ice,  
But faithful through and through."  
  
"And violet eyes my heart's desire  
there the..."  
_  
There the paper ended, torn off at the bottom. I stared at it absently. It seemed like I just couldn't really figure out what to decide or feel about anything.  
  
A rational thought popped up, one that suggested I talked to Heero. This seemed to be a good idea and I started heading that way, rereading the fairly weak poem through a few more times. Truthfully, I didn't really want to believe anything at this point. Whether Heero cared about me or not was a moot issue. I would discover the truth soon, and that would be that.  
  
Oh, who was I fooling? I sprinted the rest of the way there with a yell, swung up the fire escape and tumbled into the room, grinning foolishly, then froze.  
  
His bedroom door was open, and I could see there was no one in there. The laptop and its bag were gone from where he had been working, and the television screen was shattered. I crouched down next to the pieces, spotting blood among them, and began to seriously worry. Had someone broken in? The door was still locked, and very few non-pilots can jump up a fire escape. Heero must have done this.  
  
My blood grew cold as I realized what it must have looked like. The one friend that managed to find him saw a video with a confession of his love and... left, in such a hurry they took the window. He thought I not only didn't love him, but hated him for it.  
  
And now... he was gone, without leaving me any way, this time, of finding him.

* * *

Only two more parts to go! Although, I really am thinking of a sequel to this, one that will be a little more plot-driven and a little less relationship-ness.

Anyway, just a few notes:

Duo-23, the POVs are listed ; They're at the top. Maybe it is tricky to see... but there hasn't been too much confusion, so that's good. Also, it goes every-other chapter.

Thank you for all of the good and helpful reviews =) And thank you Violette Mai for giving me the most curious review for this fic so far.

And because I've forgotten to have them feature lately in the fic: SANDWICH!

Look for the next two chapters soon.

Oh, and Heero's other messages read 'we need eggs' and 'stop stealing my socks, moron'.


	8. N

Chapter 5—Part IV: Heero

Flee.

_i saw the record off the shelf_

Run.

_i knew what he had seen_

Move.

_why hadn't i kept it safe_

Run.

_and now he hates me...._

Stop.

Completely by habit, I had ended up at the playground that I spent so many nights at. Everything there was achingly familiar to me: the dented arcs of the half-collapsed slide, the shadows cast by the lopsided swings onto the cement beneath them, the uneven holes of the jungle gym. It was a rather comforting scene. This was as good of a place as any to catch my breath, and I moved forward to do so, before freezing.

There was something moving in the shadows there.

It took me a moment to focus, and by then I had already somersaulted into the bushes, ducked down, and drawn my gun. Even the stark fluorescent lighting couldn't mar Duo's features; the curve of his braid and the shading of his familiar clothing were untouched and distinct. He was reading something—the letter I had foolishly left there, in hopes he might discover it. His expression was beginning to worry me. It was far too grim, and didn't suit him.

With a jolt, I realized that my mind was wandering. It seemed that my military training of so many years was truly gone now, and the anger and loathing I had felt so strongly just a few minutes earlier had left with it. Vague thoughts of revenge and remorse were gone now, replaced by the vision of Duo seated there before me. Although I would have faulted him hours earlier for not noticing I was there, I could no longer find it in me to do so, as my own reactions seemed skewed and distorted.

I watched, rather trancelike, as he folded up the letter against the creases I had already made and took off with familiar Duo zest down the street, back the way I had came. Despite the merits of letting him go, I followed after, some distance behind. It took a moment for me to realize that he was going back to my apartment.

_Why?_

What possible reason would he have for returning? What could he have possibly seen in a note explaining only what he already knew? When he rejected me once, why was he going back to the house to find me again?

Of course, he had no way of knowing I wasn't there. I watched him as he scaled the fire escape and reentered my apartment; watched as he reacted with shock at the state of the television—the first sign I had an opportunity to recognize that my war life was really and truly over—and possibly at the blood on the carpeting. My hand was still bleeding, but not enough that I took notice of it: _that_ element of my past remained intact, at least. He slumped against the counter with an expression I couldn't place, and then disappeared from view.

It took me a moment before I realized that I had no idea what to do. I hadn't brought any money and all of my bank accounts were under recognizable aliases that would be easy to trace withdrawals from. The last food I had eaten was the peanut butter sandwich from before, and it seemed hardly adequate now. Without money, I couldn't get food, and without access to my apartment, money was a far away dream. Of course, I could get back into the rooms as soon as Duo left, but I had no idea when that would occur.

I did not wish to think of Duo anyway. Not that I had a choice, of course. For years, I realized that he dominated my thoughts, coming up in the most unusual places and circumstances. How others acted was immediately compared to Duo's personality. The way colors appeared and movements occurred were also subject to contrast automatically. If I rarely talked to him, it was only because all I could think about _was_ him, and I could not have a conversation in which I continuously pointed out everything about him, to himself.

It had taken me a little under an hour upon hearing his exit to convince myself utterly that this was for the best, that escape was the only choice left. I did not want to live without the one that defined me, but Duo's life would be infinitely better should I choose to disappear again, and it was in his name that I departed. It was because of me that he had been endangered countless times; I was the one that caused him to grieve himself sick and to lose all rational thought. That was why I could not, under any circumstances, go near him again, even as he was so close, there in the rooms above me.

A few moments passed, and the object of my intentions came to the window. Coldness gripped me with a fierce feeling I had never known, that accounts reported as 'terror'.

I had made a fatal mistake.

I was standing in the road.

For a while he merely looked out at the blankness of the brick behind me, expression unreadable from this distance at night. The streetlamp above threw everything into a sharp contrast, illuminating me perfectly but throwing him into shadow. It seemed wrong that I was standing in a light that left him in the darkness, but this did not help my situation. His face turned down and he saw me.

Instantly, his eyes lit up in a way that made my breath catch, and he jumped down from the window with the grace I've always admired. He came over with a grin that threatened to burst and that warmed me entirely in the cooling night. Duo had that effect on everyone, although I never let him know it worked as well on me as it did all the others.

"So... you came back," he said.

I nodded in answer. "I could say the same."

"Yeah, well... I didn't mean to leave in the first place." Duo looked unusually guilty.

What did that mean? The statement had lost me. Had he been evicted by force by someone? Or was something else going on?

"But I'm back now!" There was that grin again, the one I was always so tempted to return but never gave in to. He looked down, eyes widening.

"Heero, your _hand! _You moron, do you ever think about yourself?" Duo stepped forward and purely by instinct I moved back. I was about to assure him that it wasn't as bad as it looked, that it was only because I had been standing there for a few minutes that the blood started pooling on the ground, but I realized that sounded silly and stopped.

That was when the skies lit up with orange and light and smoke and deafening noise. Duo, against training, had started to turn towards the blast, and I lunged towards him to knock him over...

But then the fireball engulfed us and my world faded out into soothing darkness.

.................................................

When I woke, it was inside a hospital room. A doctor calmly explained that my injuries were light, as most of them were blocked by the one who was standing in front of me. I had light burns that would heal, and a small scar that wouldn't. When I demanded to know what happened to Duo, the doctor hesitated, then told me the news.

Duo was dead.

The doctor that arrived after I had lunched for the first came accompanied by a nurse with morphine, and I knew no more after that.

The end...

* * *

Yeah right! There's still one more letter left. I encourage you to keep reading.... after all, will it be Duo's triumphant return, or a chapter on how Heero moves on? Okay, so I'll probably take the nice way out... anyway, please leave any constructive responses you wish for the story. One of the hardest things I'm running up against is keeping people in character while still changing them. Heero's gone from a war-obsessed loner to a wordier citizen while Duo's calmed down a bit. Also, 's formatting keeps detracting from my dramatic enters. Pout Well, enough talk... the next chapter will be up sooner than this one was, promise! 


	9. D

Chapter 5—Part 5: Heero/Duo

It's been a month now since Duo Maxwell has gone missing, presumed dead.

I remember it so clearly, much more so than I wanted to. The way his eyes had widened as I grabbed his hand, the slight opening of his lips, and then the fireball that engulfed both of us. I was assured again and again by the doctors that he was dead, and in the impossible chance that he wasn't, he would at least be horribly scarred. It scared me that no one else knew, really, but me, that Duo would never let himself die in that way.

And so I returned to the others. I felt bad, bringing on both shocks to them at once, but I knew they could handle it. Quatre burst into tears at the news and an ashen-faced Trowa comforted him as best as he could. Wu Fei went into his room and shut the door, looking blank. I alternately felt like crying and raging. You shouldn't criticize the dead for dying....

But I could certainly blame myself.

There was a chance that, if he were scarred, he would stay away from us. Duo had always been slightly vain—just take a look at the hours he spent on his hair—and it's possible it upset him enough for him to leave. I refused to believe he was gone for good.

Instead, I threw myself into the investigation of why this had happened. Apparently, it was just a renegade group taking out a suspected traitor, but as I searched and hacked on, the targets truly showed up as Duo and I, with an emphasis on myself. That was not something I enjoyed hearing. It seemed that the bombing was in retaliation to the destroyed base of two years ago. I had been marked as the perpetrator, and Duo, as a companion, was also under suspicion.

In other words, Duo had been murdered for something neither of us had done. For the first time in my life, I wanted to scream and cry and kill all at once.

So, instead, I stalked around the house. The door was the target, I think. It didn't really matter. Nothing did.

An entire month. A month without contact or messages or news. If Duo was alive, was he stuck somewhere, hurt? Was there something I could have been doing during this time that would have made a difference? Is he laying somewhere, wondering why we had forgotten him?

One by one, the others tried to convince me and themselves that he was dead. I refused to even listen most of the time. I would give it a year, and if he didn't return, then maybe I'd consider it. But it had only been a month, and he might still be there, might still be alive.

Then another month passed, and another. Duo's favorite season, autumn, rolled around, and it was when the last leaves were starting to fall that I received the phone call.

"Heero, will you please come visit me? If it wasn't important, I wouldn't ask." It was Relena. The second sentence mattered little as Relena thought that dishware and hairstyles were important enough to warrant my presence. However, some reluctant part in my brain urged me to go and talk to her. I had waited nearly half a year now and still no word or message from Duo had arrived. Perhaps I could sign on as a guard or something for the ministeress. Relena certainly enjoyed having me around, so I might as well make someone happy. I wasn't doing anything productive at the house.

My footsteps were un-muffled for once as I walked down the streets in the cool evening, feeling the growing dread I always did when dusk neared. I could barely stand to be in darkness with the possibility of the night lighting up in fire again. It was childish and shameful, but not even the training I used to overcome fear could convince me otherwise. With a glance around, I walked faster.

The mansion was nearly in sight when a figure on the street passed close by me. I wouldn't have usually given them a second look despite their strange cloak outfit, but a hand emerged from the folds and grabbed my arm.

"Don't go in," the raspy voice warned. "It's an assassination attempt."

Without really knowing why, I grabbed the speaker's wrist, about to demand an explanation—why would Relena want to kill me? but then I noticed the scar that trailed across its—no, _his_—delicate fingers, and I think I gasped.

"Duo!"

Instantly he wrenched out of my grasp and fled. I pursued for a few feet, and then cursed. Duo always had been faster than me, something he learned to be on the streets, and I hadn't a chance to keep up with him. Instead, I cut around a building I hoped he wouldn't have noticed and waited in the shadows. I waited for nearly an hour before realizing how stupid it was to assume Duo wasn't aware of anything. He might have even planned for the fact I would have gone around the building. Through my mistake, I had lost him.

If that even _was_ him. All of my senses were telling me that it was, but doubt assailed at every corner. It was possible that Duo had paid someone to look like him to intersect me as I went down the street, but that would have strange, and anyway...

It hit me, then. It didn't matter if that was Duo, or someone he paid to look like him, or someone who just copied what he looked like down to the last detail for no real reason. The only thing that mattered was this: Duo had survived.

I had to find him. There wasn't a choice. Duo may have been better at hiding than anyone, but I _knew_ him. I knew the places he hung around, the hats he preferred, the mannerisms he displayed no matter what costume he was donning. Unfortunately, he knew me as well, and could conceivably counteract anything I should think of. That was if he didn't _want_ to be found, of course... and Duo loved company more than anything else. If he was alive, there was hope that he would return.

My steps were light as I fairly ran home, completely disregarding the message about the assassination—I wasn't going to Relena's house anymore, and the bearer overrode all other thoughts. Things like this were further signs of the degradation of my training. So when the pain exploded in my leg and back a moment later, I realized I had forgotten one important detail: Duo never wasted his time on futile causes. I remember sighing out a word as I collapsed, world darkening.

Duo.

.

.

Shivering, I pulled the cloak closer around my shoulders. It was heavy wool, but the tremors raking through me were not disease or coldness, although both had before. The dank material brought no comfort.

I had calculated perfectly the route that he would take, just as I had said I would. This skill had always been a pride of mine, but now I hated it, loathed it, wished for any other curse—I had escaped the one person I longed to be with. Heero Yuy, formally the perfect soldier, a sensitive boy even further in his past, and now a senseless, romanticized citizen. Someone had changed him, and I quaked with rage and grief that I had not been there to bring about this amazing transformation, that made him fail to recognize the fear and panic in Relena's voice as she had left that message. The gun at her temple had evoked feelings she seldom displayed. The same gun, in fact, that I had been holding minutes earlier, as I forced the distraught but still composed girl back into the basement.

The job was simple enough: come up with and execute a plan to execute Pilot 01. There was only one person qualified to do the deed, and my employers knew this. The sum they offered me was great, and my poor, starving waif-form leapt at the money.

Of course, they doubted me at first. I was kept under constant surveillance, tested again and again until their trust was secured. They sent me on missions that were cancelled, changed, and openly disregarded in terms of my part and still I served them faultlessly. Finally, they accepted that I was not going to betray them, and I had convinced them that I in fact fully agreed with all of their ideals and plans.

So, now was the ultimate test. My employers actually did place an operative to make sure I was, once again, still fully cooperative. They were apparently pleased with my treatment of Relena. For some reason, they thought it wasn't a huge temptation to push around the girl that had stolen Heero's attentions for so long.

And now I raised the gun, sighting along the barrel, and fired the two shots into my beloved. I waited a few moments to make sure he wasn't going to rise, then went over, lifting him as well as I could and starting towards the designated warehouse. Instead of going in, however, I took a detour around to the apartments next door, carefully unlocking one wooden door and letting Heero fall to the scuffed, well-patched floors. There were a few spots of blood on my shirt from where his head hit the ground, but otherwise he seemed fine.

After a moment he stirred, opening up those lovely blue eyes of his. Paralysis struck me briefly until I remembered, pulling my hood across the charred half of my face. There was no use in frightening him needlessly, if it was true he was completely civilian now. He stared at me for a moment, then joy, _joy_ spread across his face in the most indescribable way.

Joy... to see me? Why would anyone feel that, now, or ever? I had always been a nuisance—the one that talked too much, made inappropriate jokes, and couldn't save the one he loved, over and over again. And still there was that ultimate happiness as he spoke my name with a smile even Quatre couldn't hope to match, and took my hand as if it were an honor to grip the ruined, dead skin. I didn't dare to breathe, fearful that any movement could break that grip and the expression that I never, ever thought to see on his brilliant Asian features.

"It is you," he said, voice thick with disbelieving wonder. "I thought—" He stopped, having to contend with the fact I had dropped to my knees on the floor, unable to bear that kindness, the tone I had always dreamed of him using as he looked upon me. There was a moment of silence, and then there were arms around me—arms that were no longer solid muscle, but plaint softness—cradling as if I were something precious to behold instead of a useless piece of trash. He gently unwound the gun from my fingers, emptying out the remaining concussion pellets, and set it to the side without a word or even a questioning glance.

And just like that, I had Heero back. The men waiting in the building nearby did not scare me—we had been built to be the best, and together we could assuredly escape my employers. It would be easy to live under assumed names, for it was something we had done all of our lives, and money would be a cinch.

That is, if he even wanted to go with me. He hadn't seen what I looked like, yet, and there was no reason to think this was any more than greeting a friend. I shivered again, and his grip tightened around me in a manner that stole my breath from me. When those fingers let me go and started to slide beneath my hood, though, I had to rise, babbling about how good it was to see him again to hide the action. Not, of course, that it was particularly hard to talk about that subject. This transformed Heero didn't seem alien to me, but rather like how the boy _ought_ to be, how he could have been before the robots ruined his life as they did mine.

"How have you been?" I asked, cutting off my nonsensical speech. Now that I had stopped, there didn't seem to be anything to say. It was strange to imagine, but I hadn't had a normal conversation with anyone in months, and I was out of practice. It seems I had changed as much as the boy in front of me.

Before he could answer, a door slamming elsewhere in the building reminded me that we were still in danger. Tripping over words that wouldn't come, I tried to give him a rough summary of the situation and outline and escape plan, but to my surprise he just shook his head and pulled me into his arms again.

Honestly, how _was_ I supposed to protest that?

"I missed you."

"I.... yeah, I missed you too. But really, Heero, we have to be going."

That got a nod, although he didn't move. Worry finally beat up complete bliss and I broke away, hauling him up also. I scooped up the gun off the floor in a quick motion, and then grabbed his hand, intentions at least having something to do with getting him out of there. Instead of dropping it when we took off, though, he just squeezed back and I nearly lost my footing. Something was wrong with this scene, but I can't say I protested it too much.

We escaped from the building and I led Heero down night-black streets to the safe house I had prepared. It wasn't much—just a dingy apartment in a so-so part of town, but the organization had no idea it existed, which was good enough for me. Just to be safe, though, after unlocking the door I went from room to room, carefully checking for intruders. Heero caught on quickly and searched the spaces I didn't, seemingly back to his old self for at least awhile. Check done, I paused longer than needed in the bathroom, watching the mirror. It was a nightly tradition that I uselessly continued ever since the bombing and I once again allowed myself to succumb to grief and crushed hope as I slid the hood back.

Just as the night before, there weren't any changes in my state. The scars had not conformed to the miracle of finding Heero, and the burn marks still were etched in their ugly streaks across my face. I didn't have time to take off the cloak fully, but it was fair chance that the marks still continued down across my chest and back, and that the same cause as always still rendered my hand nearly useless. Like every other time, I replaced the hood and turned my head away in shame.

Completing the slow spin to the door, I didn't realize Heero was standing there until I ran into him, and by then it was too late for me anyway. Instead of the silence I expected from him or the hostile disgust of others, the gentle grip was once more placed around my shoulders.

"Why did you leave, Duo?" I wanted to shout at him for not turning me away like I deserved.

"Isn't it obvious?" My voice was bitter, but it didn't matter. "I didn't want to scare you off."

His was soft where mine was loathsome. "So you left because of me."

Something about this seemed familiar, but try as I might, I couldn't remember it.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that," I responded.

"We're even, then."

I looked up at him incomprehensibly, until realization dawned and I shook my head. "No. I told you why I left."

"I know," he answered. Heero looked uncomfortable, although I couldn't guess why. He leaned forward, tantalizingly close, and brushed his fingertips lightly over the smooth side of my jaw. For a brief moment, I had a crazy idea that he was going to kiss me, and I jerked back to rid myself of the thought. A startled expression flashed across his face and then went blank for the first time since he had followed me to the apartment.

"Listen," I said quickly, "Neither of us are safe. They know where you're staying with the others, and they'll find you there if you return. W...you need to go somewhere else. Do you have anywhere in mind?"

He thought for a moment, and then shook his head. "Won't you be in danger also?"

I couldn't help but twist my lips into my old smirk. "Who, me? I'm Shinigami. How could I be in danger?"

That just received a nod, and we walked to the kitchen. Luckily, one of the items I had thought to store in the faded-paint cupboards was food, and I dug through the shelves to try and find some. Eventually my searches turned up some only half-stale bread and a jar of partially eaten peanut butter. There didn't seem to be anything better than fingers with which to apply them to each other, but when I turned to make sure, Heero handed me a knife he had found somewhere.

"No, you aren't."

I looked up from my bread slicing, surprised. "Aren't what?"

"Shinigami."

"Why do you say that?" After a moment of deliberation, I took the end piece for myself. Heero promptly switched his sandwich with mine, and it made me oddly happy that he remembered I hated bread crust.

He was silent again for a long time while I carried the plates over to the couch and started eating. The bread was staler than I had thought, but there weren't too many other options. I swallowed gingerly and looked over to see if Heero was going to join me or not.

"Is this place safe?" he asked instead. I shrugged.

"Safe enough. Why?"

"Could I stay here with you?"

Of all questions, I wasn't expecting that one. There wasn't anything I could say for a few minutes, and my voice was hoarse when I did speak.

"What?"

A crushed expression went over his features and I was compelled to put the plate down and go over to him. "Hey... why would you want to? It's not like there's plenty of other places to go. Nicer ones, too."

Heero shook his head. "Would you be staying here?"

"Where else would I go?"

His voice was almost too soft to head. "You could come with me."

Why was he saying this? The pain was shooting through me with nearly unbearable strength, and the urge to break down was stronger than it had been in years.

"No!" I cried, voice harsher than I wanted it to be. How could I explain to him why I could never do that, when I barely knew myself? All I could understand was that I didn't want to hurt or shame him, and that maybe a little pain now would spare him grief later. The monstrous form that was my body and soul would only drag him down, even if he didn't realize it now.

"Do you hate me?" he whispered. I wanted to confirm it, to drive him away, but all I could do was shake my head and turn away.

No, I didn't hate him. But if loving him could tear him apart, then maybe I had better learn how to start.

Okay. I lied. This isn't the end, of course. However, I wanted to get a chapter up _before_ the year ended, so here it is! XD It's been deleted twice and neglected, deliberated over, and cursed at for months, but it's posted! Anyway, the next chapter honestly shouldn't be up in too long... I just need to figure out how to end things. Thanks for being patient, and thank you tons to everyone that has reviewed... it really makes me smile ) BTW, if you see any huge grammatical or stupid spelling mistake (like 'lunched' in the last chapter ;) it's just because I was so pleased at finishing this that I didn't go back and read over the whole darn thing enough times. Even so, hurrah for long chapters!


	10. Fin

Chapter... Final! Duo/Heero

(I appologize for the editing-apparently, ffnet does not accept the hyphen. All dashes that ought to be longer than they are are not owned by me, so please don't sue)

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.- .- .

I watched him where he lay after he crashed on the couch, seemingly worn out, and for good reason-concussion pellets are never fun to be hit with at the best of times, and I could sympathize to some degree. The feeling of having Heero in my wreck of an apartment at all was uncanny sensation. An unpreventable smile grew on my face, and I went to the linen closet, riffling through it. Technically, since I didn't have very many things stored at the place, it was more of a junk closet, but it _did_ contain some linen-cotton sheets, to be exact; Heero's favorite. Tossing one over to the couch, I watched the boy shift himself under it and look rather content, which made me smile again. I hadn't smiled in a long, long time, and it felt... strange.

His hair had grown over the time I had been gone, and it softened up his features, which had always been rather rough. The expression was changed as well; Heero almost looked younger than his age instead of older. It made me feel rather sad for a bit. My employers, it seemed, had wasted their time getting the best, with him in this state. Not, of course, that I regretted being chosen-it was much easier to save Heero from myself than someone else.

Earlier, in the bathroom, my scars had not driven him away, and I couldn't figure it out. If he had gone completely civilian, he should have noticed, right? But there wasn't a hesitation, no look of annoyance or disgust in those memorable ocean eyes, and it confused me.

"Duo?" the soft voice from the couch jostled me out of my thoughts, and I looked up.

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry... I didn't mean to be rude. So, how long have you had this place for?" he said, watching me with polite interest. I stared at him for a long moment, feeling like I was having reverse déjà vu-was this why Heero always looked so annoyed at me-with the fact that Heero, Heero Yuy, Mr. Stone Cold Soldier, was waiting patiently for me to make small talk with him. After too long of a silence, he glanced away, looking embarrassed.  
"Sorry."

"Hey... nothing to be sorry about." I sat down next to him, wondering when the fairy tale situation was going to end, and trying to figure out what it meant when the world's most frigid person is perched beside you, beaming. Heero's scowl usually meant trouble, and there had never been a need for a definition for his smile, so a grin was completely beyond my scope of understanding.

There wasn't anything else I wanted to be doing, so I spent awhile with him learning how to talk like a normal person again. Shockingly, Heero never stopped speaking the entire time-in fact, he was really driving the conversation. Once or twice he paused, as if unsure how to continue from there, but each time he spoke on, hopping from the weather to my cloak, somehow never mentioning the others or what he had been up to lately.

It didn't take me long to realize that he was actually purposely not mentioning them. This somewhat startled me, and finally my curiosity overcame my politeness-which I have to admit isn't one of my strong points.

"How is everyone else?" I asked.

"They're fine. Everyone is all together, still," he answered, and then changed the topic. He implied that he was with them, also, but a factor about this seemed to upset him, and it left me at a loss.

Some time later I had to admit to exhaustion. My pay was not good, and the food I was living on wasn't enough to keep me active at all hours. It annoyed me greatly that what I could thrive on in my younger days was inadequate now. When I mentioned it to Heero-my tiredness, of course; I would never bring up my problems to him for fear of reaction-he, get this, immediately apologized for keeping me up so late, as if I wasn't talking right back to him and thoroughly enjoying it. He never ceased to amaze me, and it seemed that now, I was in for more surprises than usual.

"Do you hate me?" he had asked before. What was I supposed to do with that? He seemed to remember our conversation as well and a faint, nearly puppy-dog look came into his eyes as he sighed and mentioned going. Unable to come up with a way to kick him out, I threw a pillow at him, which he caught by reflex.

"Jeeze, just stay here. I've got two bedrooms, and it would be a waste to not use them. Okay, so one of them just works as a living room. But really, there's no point in you going home now." I took another blanket from the closet. "Do you want to stay here or in the bedroom?"

He didn't answer, watching the sheet and tracing his fingers over the patterns in a movement so heart rendering that I wanted to either cry or give him a hug, albeit one-handed, thanks to the blanket. "Before... you didn't really say, either way, what your answer was."

There wasn't a need to mention which statement he was referring to-we often were able to key on what the other was talking about with very little reference, although the others could do it as well, so I never felt too special about it. I put the parts of my face that would respond into a smile and sat beside him. "Heero, could I ever hate you? Shoot you, yes, but not that." Keeping my voice light was hard, especially while mentioning something I felt rather guilty about.

That received a nod in response and we talked for awhile longer. I was watching nothing in particular, as I had gotten quite used to not looking at people while I spoke, when I noticed his hand along the edges of my peripheral vision. He seemed to not know what to do with it. It moved near to mine, then away; then back, and brushed the skin of mine ever-so-slightly before he jerked it back, only to begin again. It sent brief, confused shutters through me each time until finally, rather perplexed, I grabbed it with my own. Heero immediately looked away, tone of voice even as he finished his statement, and as he rolled his hand up to lace his fingers with mine, I realized with a shock that he actually just wanted to hold my hand. The idea was as surreal as the rest of the night had been.

For some reason, I decided not to let go.

We talked on, mutually ignoring the hand. His palm was damp with nerves despite his cool tone, while I was still too surprised to care. Had he gotten used to doing things like this with other people while I was gone? That thought chilled me and I resolved not to think about it.

Heero decided to take the couch-with the excuse that I had taken it last time, so long ago-and I walked to my bedroom, feeling oddly happy about the arrangement. While I was gone, I had never lost my feelings for the dark-headed boy, as strange as they were. It was illogical that they should exist at all; I've never looked at any other that was male before, and we had both tried to kill each other times uncountable. His grace and stoics drew me, the coldness of his heart and personality attracted me only further. This new warmth he was exhibiting didn't deter, however. It was just mildly unexpected.

I was so caught up in my thoughts that I didn't detect the odd scent in my room consciously. Instinct froze me in the doorway and I remembered too late, as the tip of a knife pressed into the back of my neck, that I had decided not to listen to that any more. My only thought was that it was Heero, taking his revenge for whatever he had meant to tell me so many months ago, and despair kept me from crying out. A sharp pain hit the nape, but the darkness I expected didn't come-damage seemed to have been done, though, as my back was nearly instantly soaked with a smell I intimately knew as blood. I was pushed forward and only as I whirled did I realize that the blood wasn't mine and the shove was actually the man, one of my lesser liked teammates, collapsing to the ground.

Heero was standing behind him, eyes a vibrant, deadly blue that I hadn't seen since the last battle. He grabbed my hand and suddenly we were off, down the hall of my apartment complex and onto the street before I could even wonder where we were going. I darted one hand up to kept my hood down, which had flipped back in our dash, and to my ultimate surprise Heero reached back and smacked my grip away, letting the cloth fall back again. I stared at him but he only made a muttered comment about moving faster and tightened his grip on me.

We wove through the streets until even I was lost and disoriented, an effect that I hope had been applied to any followers as well. Heero suddenly darted into a darkened alleyway and yanked me sharply against him. It made sense-my cloak was black, long, and doing a good job of blending us in-but the roaring in my ears screamed otherwise, and a voice was screaming at me to take advantage of this situation. I ignored it and kept my eye on Heero, who was doing his best imitation of "Changing to Resemble a Tomato in Under Ten Seconds".

"Raise your arms up," he said gruffly, at least, I think he said at all, because his hands were on my waist and all this deep breathing from running was distracting me quite a bit. "My face is showing."

Instead, I leaned forward, keeping my face close enough that it covered both of our faces. His eyes dropped shut and I started to pull back, offended, but he tightened his grip, and a sudden thought shot through me-_he wasn't turning away from my face, he thought I was going to _kiss_ him._ Shivering slightly, I put my arms up on his shoulders, daring to twine my good hand in his hair.

"Your neck was, too," I murmured, and he nodded, letting his head fall down to my shoulder. I felt his lips brush my collar bone, and I nearly jumped out of my skin, among other things, but he turned his head away quickly enough, trying to make it look like an accident. This exposed his neck and I bent my head slightly as well, the temptation too great to resist, when I realized I could hear shouts and whispers outside of the alley. In fact, as my brain caught up and demanded an explanation, I was informed that I had been hearing them for quite some time.

Damn Heero and his irresistible sexiness. We held perfectly still as the voices, many of which I recognized, trailed their way away from our location. I found myself unable to let go of the boy even when the last one left, and finally he raised his head, voice barely above silence.

"We should go." His cheek was pressed against mine, and the vibrations from his words nearly pushed me over the edge, but instead I let him go and stepped back. The saddest sound I've ever heard escaped from his lips and he turned immediately to hide it. "This... this way." He took a grip on my sleeve this time and I ached from the loss of warmth.

We walked and walked until we reached a house that, even though I had never been there, screamed out _home_ in my head. Heero tapped a short code on the door, and then shoved me past the blonde man that opened it into the warmly lit entryway. Quatre appeared to have shot up quite a lot while I had been gone, and he gaped at me from a few inches over my head.

"_Duo,_" he whispered, and I was gathered into a tight hug, scars and all. I managed a breathy laugh and hugged him back, not wanting to scare our most innocent member with my newly acquired personality. He gave a yell and suddenly the room was a whirling kaleidoscope of people, some of which were half expected-Catherine, Sally-and others which were not (was that _Zechs_ standing in the corner?) and those which I had never expected to see again. Even Wu Fei gave me a hug, and I suspected either a sudden interest in drugs, or that someone had finally went out and bought the poor boy a few emotions. At one point, Quatre grabbed Trowa and kissed him firmly, and my day went much brighter as I realized Heero wasn't with either of them.

This reminded me of the one that had brought me here and I turned to see Heero leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, glaring absently into the crowd in his old familiar way. The others were treating this as normal, and I was struck dumb as I realized it was very possible that his "newfound personality" was perhaps only a product of seeing me again. He did not seem to be the boy I had just spent hours chatting with, or the one that had gripped me in a dark alley, who had struggled to keep his voice calm. No longer could I see him ignoring a gun in my hand or holding me until I could breathe again. My feelings on this change were so mixed that I decided to ignore them altogether and put them next to the little voice reminding me how tired I was in hopes they would become friends and wander off.

Trowa, of all people, seemed to realize that I was nearing collapse and began shooing people back into what I realized was a sort of office-house complex that was deceptively larger than the cute colonial appearance it had on the outside. No wonder there were so many here-it must be where everyone lived. Heero hadn't been joking when he said they were all together, then.

Heero. I glanced over to the wall only to discover that he, too, had been shooed out, and was out of sight. This loss hit me worse than anything I could think of and I stood there for a moment before snapping back and asking Quatre where I was supposed to be staying. A slight dampness at my back reminded me that I probably should get changed as well, and I was thankful my robes did not show any stains, even blood.

"None of the free rooms are set up, so you'll have to room with someone," he told me. "Would you mind staying with Heero?" Trowa had to cover a sudden coughing fit and I shot him a look, not sure whether to hit him or smirk.

"Sure," I told Quatre. I thought about making a joke about staying with him instead of see if I could get Trowa to sputter instead of coughing, but I was too tired to do anything. The blonde boy laughed at my expression of puzzled exhaustion and helpfully steered me down the hall, placing me in front of a closed door. I stared mutely at the shiny circle on the side of it, trying to remember what you did with those, when the door opened and a gorgeously shirtless Heero glared out at us.

"Don't tell me you're putting him in here," he snapped, but I was too tired to be offended or hurt, and the gentleness with which he caught me as I sagged forward spoke volumes otherwise anyway. Trowa chuckled a bit and our fellow ex-pilots bid goodnight and went off before Heero could dump me on them. As soon as they were out of sight an arm was slipped under my legs and I was lifted up. It seemed that the softness there I had felt earlier was perhaps a little more deceptive than I had thought. Heero carried me into the room and dropped me rather unexpectedly on the floor, where he crossed his arms and glared at the window.

I twisted my head into an uncomfortable angle and followed his gaze, to the smog-filled, achingly familiar view there. A mirror sat over the opposite bed; a chunky gray laptop buzzed on the desk; one bed had pristine white cotton sheets, and the other three mismatched feather comforters. It was the room he had left all those months ago.

Heero's shoulders were shaking with what I presumed was cold and I located my legs with difficulty, rising. The smell of blood was getting to my head and I tugged ineffectually at the cloak, which didn't seem to want to come off.

"Help me?" I murmured.

He turned his head and the hazy moonlight reflected off the tears on his cheeks, the same ones from back then. Without a comment he deftly unfastened the cloak and I turned my head to bury my face in the hair that tumbled down over the t-shirt I wore under the material, letting that hide my scars instead. Heero folded up the ruined cape and placed it out in the hall before shutting the door, seeming rather reluctant about performing the action. The tears were gone now, I noticed, but an aching sadness hung in the air around him. He always was sad, but the change from the laughing, grinning boy earlier that night-or, glancing at the shape of the moon, last night-was strikingly painful. I moved towards him but couldn't think of anything to say.

It's kind of funny, that _I_ couldn't think of anything to say. It wasn't a problem that I'd ever had before, really.

Heero looked at me and gave a soft gasp, similar to and yet utterly different than that crushingly sorrowful sound he had made earlier, and moved forward, wrapping his arms around me. He let go almost immediately, expression panicked.

"I'm sorry," he stammered, looking like he was ready to dive for the window once again, and I had the sudden urge to do the first right thing since perhaps my birth. I wrapped one arm around his waist, buried the other in his hair, and kissed him as hard as I dared. He melted into me, fully the Heero I had spoken with earlier, no longer the stoic soldier boy.

As he surrounded me with an embrace of his own, I decided it was a change I could get used to.

.- .- .-

.- .- .

(A short, pointless little ending thing)

It's been three years now since Duo Maxwell just decided to come back into my life. The others have adapted now to this "new leaf" I've overturned, and no longer make comments when I have to pull him in for one last kiss or touch-at least, no more than they make towards Trowa and Quatre, or any of the other couples randomly scattered throughout the complex. I, who often let their comments affect me in the past, found that I hadn't minded their new ones much even so. Duo just had that affect on people.

And so life continued on. Work progressed. I had adapted to having a mostly paper-oriented job before Duo had returned, and in the months after his return, he seemed to enjoy the change as well. Things were not perfect, of course-he was still uncomfortable about my visits to Relena, who I saw every month or so on business related reasons. I think he even still believed that I loved her, despite my protests to the contrary. It was obvious that he knew he was being absurd but it still didn't stop the hurt look in his eyes that I was at a loss to cure.

Finally, Trowa approached me one day and shoved something into my hand. "Just get it over with," he snapped, rather uncharacteristically. I looked down at the ring between my fingers, rather puzzled. What was I supposed to do with it? Trowa certainly wasn't known for giving spontaneous gifts, and certainly not jewelry. It was obvious that he expected me to know what to do with it, so I merely nodded and went online.

What I found was surprising, to say the least, but after close scrutiny I decided that the metal band was not the One Ring, and that Trowa most likely was discussing marriage, a term I had of course heard of before but never expected to be partaking in. I researched what was still a bit of a foreign concept to me, read some vows, and decided that, overall, this probably was the solution to the problem. It was rather inconceivable that this was something Duo would wish to commit to do, however. _To death do we part,_ the speeches said, and while he seemed content to be around me now, I couldn't imagine that he would want to do so forever. That thought sent a violent pang through me and I shut the laptop lid, watching the ring and wondering what to do. For all I knew, it wouldn't even fit Duo. I estimated his fingers were about the same as my fourth one and pushed the ring on-it seemed to fit well enough, at least.

My training had slipped enough that I hadn't realized that Duo was there until he leaned over my shoulder, voice peaked with curiosity. "Where'd you get the ring from?" he asked.

"Trowa," I responded, feeling a little annoyed that I hadn't been able to hide the band inside. I flexed my left hand to see the light glint off the gold, starting to get suspicious at the sudden silence, and more than confirmed when a breeze accompanied by the weight lifting off of my shoulder blew past my face. I leaned over and slammed a button on the desk, which was shortly followed by a yelp as the door swung shut on Duo.

He turned back towards me, eyes furious and one hand holding his nose. "You actually _installed_ that stupid thing?" he yelled. I waited, watching him silently as his shoulders slumped, then felt too guilty to continue.

"I didn't want either of us to escape through a misunderstanding," I replied, softly, in case anyone had been attracted by his yells. "Trowa does not want to marry me." I slipped the ring off and set it on the table.

"Oh, well... duh," he said, looking down. I was struck by the urge to hold him, and like every time before, I had to remind myself that I _could_ now, that it was allowed and perhaps even desired. The action completed, I rested my head on his shoulder.

I continued, just as quietly as before, "The ring is for you." He tensed beneath me and I waited, too at a loss to continue.

"Oh," he said again, finally. "It's pretty."

"I think there are words I'm supposed to say with that," I replied, thinking desperately through what the pages said. _After you pop the question... if they say yes to "that phrase"..._ They were unhelpful.

"Um," he said, just as eloquently as I. We looked at each other, both silent now, and I tried to figure out what to say about this. My mind was screaming yes and no equally at me as I realized that either way, he might leave. That, I could never bear again.

"Marry me," I stammered out desperately. "Please. If you want to."

He stared at me and then grinned in a way that made me feel the urge to break out in spontaneous dance (an urge I quickly squashed, I assure you). "Yeah, sure. That sounds good." Laughing, he put his head on my shoulder again.

"Hey, Heero?"

"Yes?" I managed to whisper back.

"Have you ever thought about having kids?"

""

"Just kidding!"

"..."

"Ow, that's my _hair!_"

* * *

a.n/ Well... it's over! And I'm pretty sure I mean it this time. Honestly. 

Thanks for all of the great reviews and feedback I've received while completing this. It's greatly appreciated. I'll probably go back and fix some of the errors that have been helpfully pointed out to me... eventually. )

See you next fic!


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